


Taking Care of Things

by lesbianettes



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: F/F, Fingering, Medical Kink, Praise Kink, Smut, nancy gets fingered on a gurney, pbdistancing, porn with almost no plot, quarantine challenge, wearing gloves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianettes/pseuds/lesbianettes
Summary: Michelle takes care of Nancy's problem.
Relationships: Michelle Blake/Nancy Gillian
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Taking Care of Things

“Gonna tell me why you can’t sit still?”

Nancy’s entire face heats up and she tries to keep herself from reacting too much. It’s embarrassing. She doesn’t want to admit to her captain that she’s been wet in her panties for her entire shift, has no idea why, and keeps getting warm all over at the slightest provocation. Whatever weird sickness it is, she can deal with it on her own. Unfortunately, she didn’t realize she had been shifting in her seat a little, rubbing her thighs together as if that can dispel the feeling under her clothes. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” she says.

The look Michelle fixes her with doesn’t help. It makes her feel like she’s being seen, all the way through to her very soul, so there isn’t a single thing she can hide. Hiding things from Michelle has always been hard, but especially with whatever nerves and anxiety come with these strange symptoms… she can hardly stand the pressure of her stare. 

She takes a deep breath and scuffs her feet on the floor before admitting what’s wrong in an intentionally indecipherable mumble, out of some desperate hope that it’ll satisfy Michelle without her having to be honest. But of course, that doesn’t protect her, and a single look at her captain’s expression has her sighing and hiding her face behind her hands. 

“I’ve been uh… I’ve been…” She swallows. “All day, for some reason, I’ve been wet, and I don’t know why.”

“...Okay?”

“I think something might be wrong.”

Michelle’s gaze softens and she says something all too surprising. “I can take a look for you, if you want. I’m not a gyno, but I know my way around. Maybe I can put your mind at ease?”

Somehow, a few minutes later, Nancy finds herself lying on the gurney in the ambulance, pants folded neatly on the floor as Michelle pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves. The sight has her heart pounding for reasons she can’t explain. Her legs are up and spread in a pseudo-missionary position, and she can feel the cold air hitting her slick folds in a way that’s both uncomfortable and arousing, another confusing thing to add to this mess. Michelle’s looking at her- not her face, but her body- with a clinical, assessing glint to her blue eyes. Her hands are nothing but the brushing of the latex against Nancy’s thighs before they’re on her. She sharply inhales, the only response she allows herself, when two fingers coat themselves with her wetness and plunge into her. She hasn’t felt this in a long time, too busy to take care of herself, let alone find someone else to do it for her. 

After around thirty seconds of Michelle feeling around inside her, firm but gentle and assessing, she pulls back and looks up at Nancy, waiting for her to meet her eyes.

“I wouldn’t say there’s anything obviously wrong, but you did get more lubricated from that, so honestly, I think you just need to get off. When was the last time you had an orgasm?” Nancy’s too embarrassed to answer, and it must show, because Michelle doesn’t make her answer. “If you haven’t in a while, sometimes you just need some relief. That’s all. But if that still doesn’t help-” Michelle shrugs, “I’d talk to your doctor.”

Being told by the paramedic captain that she just needs to touch herself every now and then is awkward enough, but the feeling disappears to make way for something else when Michelle’s dry hand presses down gently on her leg.

“Do you want help?”

It’s hard to believe that Nancy is honestly being offered this. Michelle, beautiful and commanding and intimidating Michelle, has her half-naked in the back of their ambulance and offering to make her come for the first time in too long. But if it’s real, she wants it, and all she can do is nod and lay back on the crinkling paper sheeting they always put down for sanitary reasons. Her eyes fix on the ceiling. With a deep breath, Michelle’s fingers are in her again. 

This time, her touch feels more calculated. She’s not just seeing if there’s something clearly wrong, she’s focusing on pleasure. The crook of her fingers to search out a spot that makes Nancy’s breath catch in her throat is so painfully deliberate that it could kill her. And of course, Michelle finds her clit with her thumb and begins to make tight little circles around it that drive Nancy crazy. 

“That’s it,” Michelle soothes. Her free hand skates up and down one of Nancy’s thighs in a soothing gesture not unlike petting her. It’s nice. “Good girl. You’re doing so well for me.”

One would think it would have occurred to Nancy long before now that she loves praise, but the thrill it sends through her body is new and beautiful. She can’t breathe for a moment as she processes the words and her hips lift off the gurney into Michelle’s practiced touch. She’s too good at it to only have done this to herself. Thinking of Michelle touching other women like this, maybe using her mouth too, is an equally overwhelming thought that Nancy can’t bear to entertain right now. If she does, she might forget how to live entirely. Her heart will be too overwhelmed to beat.

She’s burning up from the inside out when Michelle adds a third finger and switches the motion of her thumb from circles to simple but pressured back and forth over her clit. It feels good too, but in a different sort of way she doesn’t entirely understand. This isn’t a common occurrence for her, and she’ll admit, she’s always been a bit clumsy about her own body, let alone someone else’s.

As if to both taunt her and fuel the fire inside her, Michelle is still wearing those surgical -grade gloves on her palms. Despite the intimacy, there’s no contact of her bare fingers. No calluses and no warmth, just the cool and too-smooth texture of the gloves. Why does that make this whole thing better? Her stomach feels like there’s a knot inside it, tightening up and preparing her for what’s coming. Every muscle tenses up before long, her toes curling and her back arching. She doesn’t make a sound as the sensations overwhelm her. She can’t.

The next thing she knows, Michelle is peeling off her gloves and throwing them away before sanitizing her palms as though this was completely medical and not something that has Nancy struggling to reorient herself in the aftermath. She worries for a moment that Michelle is just going to leave, letting the open door expose her. But then, with all the tender care in the woman’s body, Michelle helps her back into her panties and slacks and then eases her to her feet as though she’s not a shaky mess.

“Take a shower before the next call,” Michelle advises, and kisses her cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses and no regrets. tumblr @princessbekker


End file.
